


Blowing Up

by domini_moonbeam



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Explicit Language, Five Years Later, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_moonbeam/pseuds/domini_moonbeam
Summary: “You hated the world and I hated myself. We were a disaster. It’s a good thing things ended when they did. We could have really hurt each other. We would have been like mixing dynamite and matches.”He Tian grinned. “Which one of us is the dynamite?”“Does it matter? We’ll blow up.”-He Tian comes back after disappearing five years ago. He doesn't go looking for Guan Shan, but as soon as he sees him, he can't look away.





	1. Ghost

He Tian had left without saying a word. He hadn’t planned to leave—hadn’t prepared for it. He’d fallen into patterns, into an almost normal life. But then they’d snatched up Jian Yi and he had to follow. So, he didn’t look back, because he knew if did—he might not have been able to go. He never looked back, never looked up his Mo or asked anyone to check in on him. He just left. But, try as he had, he could never quite get the redhead out of his head.

 

They’d been back in town a few days—off their father’s leash and in the wild. Jian Yi had gone straight for Zhan Zhengxi. Predictable even now. It was almost shocking to see him fall back into his old behavior—like he was still that helpless, stupid kid.

He Tian hadn’t looked for Guan Shan yet. He wasn’t sure he would. What was he going to find? What was he going to say?

He Tian had been at that club that night by chance, sitting at a VIP table with the owner and a handful of others—all bootlicking to get in good with the family now that his brother, He Cheng, was running the house. It was a flashy club, all neon and shadows and throbbing music. It was the hottest place in the city.

He Tian saw him, without looking—without meaning to. His attention slid through the crowd and landed on the bar near the center of the club, lit up from inside with a light blue glow. The bartenders were practically dancing back and forth, pouring drinks and trading them out for cash. They were all beautiful, but he saw Guan Shan first and forgot the rest. His heart quickened, gaze fixed as he studied him. It had been years. A part of him had been terrified Guan Shan was dead or in jail—he’d had a temper.

He looked very alive. He poured drinks, rolling glasses and bottles like a practiced dance along long, slender fingers. His tank top hung off him, flashing glimpses of his sides, of his ribs and the hints of tattoos. He was pale and defined, skin glossy with sweat and body bouncing with the throb of music as he worked. He looked good—healthy—happy. He whispered something in another bartender’s ear and the woman laughed and nodded. He smiled—but it was that same, wicked smirk that He Tian had been obsessed with as a kid.

“See someone you know?” the woman beside He Tian asked, only vaguely interested.

“The bartender…Who is he?” He Tian asked instead of answering.

She hummed, leaning over to follow his gaze. She owned the club and the hotel above it. “Red?”

He looked at her when she said it, eyebrow raising.

The woman laughed easily and leaned back into her seat, picking up her champagne. “I don’t remember their names, darling. We call him Red and he goes by it here. Good kid. Hard worker.”

He Tian looked at Guan Shan again. “Does he hook?” he asked, deadpan, hiding how his heart clenched in his chest. That had been another fear of his, hadn’t it? His Guan Shan would do whatever he could to survive.

She laughed. “That one? No. But I can find you another…”

“No. Tell me about that one.”

“Well, you’re not going to buy Red, darling. Others have tried.” She sounded only vaguely annoyed that Red wasn’t up for sale. “He works a few jobs—thinks I don’t know—but he’s a hustler and worth looking the other way. As long as he’s never late for a shift here.” She puffed smoke between words, all of this dull to her.

He Tian hadn’t taken his eyes off Guan Shan. One of the guests was leaning over the counter, yelling, drunk. Guan Shan had focused on the big guy, nodding and talking—trying to calm him down. The guy wouldn’t settle. He reached out, trying to grab Guan Shan, but Red slid back easily out of his grip. A grin flashed over Guan Shan’s lips—still wild—and with his left hand he tossed a drink in the customer’s face. Before the droplets had even settled, he threw a right hook and knocked the guy back and onto his ass on the floor, clearing a little circle.

Guan Shan shot an arm in the air, hooked a finger and twisted his wrist, and the bouncers came rushing over, gathering the guy up off the ground.

“You usually let your bartenders punch your clients?” He Tian asked, hiding his delight.

The owner laughed. “I do when it’s Red. They call it his kiss. The rest of the guests love it. He’s feisty. Like I said—there’s no selling that one. He has a bit of a fan following in the club circuits—we had to poach him from another joint.”

He Tian nodded and then, somehow, tore his attention from Guan Shan and went back to a normal conversation with his company. He managed to only peek, glancing now and then at the bar while pretending to scan the floor.

And then, an hour later, Guan Shan was gone.

Panic shot through his chest. He spotted him moving to the back room of the club, through a dark door with a keypad for staff only. Another bartender was taking his place.

He Tian excused himself, thanking the owner for showing him around before slipping away. He went around the building, into the quiet streets, and down the side alley to the back door. And then he waited.

It took all of ten minutes before the door smacked open and Guan Shan and the other bartender he’d been working with poured out in street clothes and jackets.

Guan Shan froze, two steps for the door, when he met his gaze.

He Tian wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it hadn’t been the surprise and relief that first washed over the redhead’s face. Relief gave way to confusion and then—oh yes, there it was—he was pissed. He took another step forward and swung his fist at He Tian.

He could have ducked. He could have caught his arm.

But he didn’t. He took the punch, because he deserved it.

“No, fucking, way,” Guan Shan growled before storming away.

The girl he worked with had gasped, but hurried to catch up with him. “Who the hell is that?” she asked.

“A ghost,” Guan Shan answered.

He Tian thumbed the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled darkly. Day one—and he already got a kiss.

 

* * *

 

He Tian wasn’t EXACTLY stalking Guan Shan. He was just curiously observing him. Really, it wasn’t his fault the redhead was this bad at noticed someone tailing him.

He’d gone from the club last night to a café with his coworker. For a split second He Tian had worried she was his girlfriend. She was bubbly and she hung on He Tian, but then her boyfriend showed up and she left with the other guy. He Tian stayed a while longer at the café before leaving around three in the morning and going to a 24 hour gym. He trained and then showered and came out in fresh clothes. Then he went to a job at a bakery around 5.

He Tian sat in a café across the street, answering emails and texts on his phone, assuring his brother he hadn’t fucked anything up and was keeping an eye on Jian Yi. And then he sent Jian Yi a text, telling him he was watching him—which was a lie. He was not. But Jian Yi was with Zhengxi and that guy was completely boring. What trouble could they possibly get into?

At 9:30, the waitress put a cup of coffee in front of He Tian that he had not ordered. He looked at it and then up at her. “That isn’t mine,” he said, a hint of a smile in chase he wanted to charm her.

“It’s mine,” Guan Shan said and He Tian’s eyes widened a fraction, grin breaking out when the guy walked over and sat down. “But he’s paying,” the redhead told the waitress. She smiled and slipped away.

He Tian was impressed, glancing at the front of the café and then at Guan Shan again.

“I came in the back,” he explained flatly and sipped his coffee.

“You knew I was here.”

Guan Shan shrugged. “You’re not my first stalker.”

He Tian wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but right now the redhead was sitting across from him and that seemed monumental. Could it be that easy? Would they just fall back into old habits?

“I don’t know what you’re doing here or why you’re following me—but knock it off,” Guan Shan said. He’d lost a lot of his energy since the club earlier that morning.

“You missed me,” He Tian said boldly.

Guan Shan looked like he might laugh and then nodded once, surprising He Tian. This wasn’t the same insecure, angry kid he’d fallen for. “I was pretty sure you were dead,” he admitted casually, looking He Tian up and down with no lack of appreciation. “But you’re not. So get the fuck back out of my life.”

He Tian grinned. “No.”

 Guan Shan looked serious then. “I’m not doing this again. You were a bully.”

“You loved it.”

Guan Shan nodded once. “Yeah. I did. But I’m not playing with you anymore. We weren’t friends…we were almost something but it didn’t happen.”

“It could happen,” He Tian said before thinking. Was he really doing this? How could he resist? All he wanted was to touch Guan Shan. He wanted to see if he still trembled—if he would blush. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t, and that was exciting.

Guan Shan shook his head tightly but He Tian could already see it, he wanted to give in. His Guan Shan always wanted to be tempted.

“We would have been terrible,” the redhead said.

“How so?”

He sighed. “You hated the world and I hated myself. We were a disaster. It’s a good thing things ended when they did. We could have really hurt each other. We would have been like mixing dynamite and matches.”

He Tian grinned. “Which one of us is the dynamite?”

“Does it matter? We’ll blow up.”

“Are you afraid?”

Guan Shan laughed then. “I’m letting you off the hook, man. You didn’t crush my heart when you left. I’m fine. But I’m not that kid anymore.”

He Tian nodded slowly. “I see that.”

Guan Shan nodded too, like that concluded things. He took another drink from his coffee, somehow downing hot caffeine, and then stood up.

He Tian caught his wrist, his skin hot under his fingers, electric in how the contact sent chills down his spine. “You’re still a liar though,” he whispered sweetly.

Guan Shan glared. “What?”

“You miss me.”

The redhead tried to pull his wrist free but He Tian held on, feeling his pulse quicken through his skin. “I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not. I’ve moved on. We never even fucked!” he snapped, not caring how people around them looked and whispered. That was his Guan Shan, bursting with emotion. Wild. “I don’t miss you, He Tian. I didn’t even know you.”

“Liar.” He Tian stroked his thumb across the inside of Guan Shan’s captured wrist, standing to tower over him.

Guan Shan’s lips curled in a snarl and he jerked his wrist free. “Prove it!” he snapped.

He Tian smiled and reached up, fingertips touching Guan Shan’s hair, sliding across his temple and into his scalp, stroking the shell of his ear before he caught the little black stud between finger and thumb. “You’re still wearing them.”

Guan Shan’s eyes went wide and then, to He Tian’s surprise, they went teary. His nose wrinkled, jaw flexing stubbornly when he refused to cry. “Fuck you,” the redhead spat before turning and storming out of the café.

He Tian watched him go before he sighed. He dropped a few bills on the table and left, but didn’t follow his redhead—not yet. He had no intention of giving up the chase, not now or ever—not as long as his Guan Shan still wanted him. He had grown and changed but he’d only become more of who he always was—more wild and free and bold. Guan Shan was a storm and He Tian was dying for rainfall.


	2. Dreamer

He Tian gave it four days before showing up to the club while Guan Shan was working.

He went up to the bar, waited, caught his eye and ordered a shot of vodka.

Red glared, poured the shot, slid up to the bar across from He Tian, and then without breaking eye contact, lifted the shot glass and spit into it before holding it out to him.

He Tian brushed his fingers when he took it, stared back, grinned, and downed the shot.

Guan Shan was still wearing the earrings—the little black studs He Tian had bought him back when they were kids, just before disappearing on him. As long as he still wore them—all those scowls and middle fingers tossed his way were just flirty encouragement.

He Tian spent the rest of the night dancing with strangers and only glancing at the bar when he felt Guan Shan looking at him, catching his gaze and riling the redhead.

He didn’t follow him when he got off work and moved particularly slowly across the floor and to the back of the building. And he didn’t hustle out to catch him when he left either.

He Tian was playing a game he meant to win and he’d already tipped a waitress to tell him where Red would be after work tonight. Turned out there was a party a few blocks over—supposed to be a big event at some rich assholes mansion. Just as she’d described, it had been a blow out of a party, the kind that was still going hard at 3am and would turn into a sleepover once everyone passed out and then probably turn into a lazy weekend of drugs, liquor and sex. The only problem was, when He Tian arrived, he didn’t see his redhead anywhere.

He Tian asked around and someone said they’d seen him, one of the many perks of chasing Guan Shan was that the guy was far from forgettable. The hooker pointed He Tian to the stairs. “Went up to the bedrooms.”

He Tian almost hesitated—almost. Would he rather Guan Shan were fucking him? Hell yes. Would he hate walking in on him with someone else? No. In fact, he couldn’t help but imagine it—the faces his redhead would make when he was caught.

He took the stairs two at a time, one hand in his pocket while he peeked in room after room, laughing a little to himself at the scenes he was walking in on. Maybe it was another of Guan Shan’s tricks? Maybe the waitress at the club had told him what she’d let slip and he’d sent him down a smutty rabbit hole? Not the worst kind…

He peeked into the last room in this hall. For a moment he mistook the darkness and silence for emptiness but just when he was about to close the door, he noticed a familiar bag on the floor and a lump on the bed.

He Tian went in, closing the door and shrugging out of his jacket on his way to the bed, curiously watching the redhead there. He was alone. Clothed. And asleep. What the fuck?

He crouched down beside the bed, looking his Mo Guan Shan over. Curiously, he reached out as though he’d take the backpack on the floor. A hand caught his wrist. Guan Shan was fast. Cool fingers squeezed his wrist and those eyes peeked open, studying him through a sleepy haze—narrowing before his mouth quirked in irritation and he let go. “Fuck off.”

He Tian laughed when those eyes closed, like he wasn’t a threat—like he wasn’t flattered not to be. He reached out boldly and touched the redhead’s cheek. “What are you doing here?”

Guan Shan sighed. “Sleeping. Shut up and get out.”

“Why here?” He Tian spoke softly now, as though he could sleep and talk at the same time if he just kept it all in a dreamy whisper.

“Was close,” he slurred.

He Tian ran his fingers down Guan Shan’s cheek, over his jaw, and down his neck.

The redhead sighed sleepily, shifting on the bed as though to make it easier for He Tian’s fingers to roam. He Tian smiled to himself. He took his hand away from that soft skin for a second, and slid onto the bed beside him.

“Go away,” Guan Shan tried to growl but it came out in a mutter.

He Tian sighed, pulling the other man into his arms.

Guan Shan muttered a string of curses, but melted against his chest, head tucked under He Tian’s chin. “I’m angry at you,” he mumbled.

He Tian nodded in the dark. “I know. But you’ll forgive me.”

Guan Shan’s breathing was evening out, sinking him deeper into sleep. “I know,” he whispered back.

 

* * *

 

Guan Shan wasn’t sure how he’d ended up eating breakfast in a café across a table from He Tian. He’d woken up in a bed with him, vaguely remembering him showing up at the party house. He’d offered to drive Guan Shan home when they were leaving in the morning and in an effort to evade that subject, he’d said he was going to have breakfast.

And here they were.

He Tian managed to look just as sinister and beautiful in the morning, in his winkled clothes from last night, as he had at the club at midnight. _Fuck him._ Guan Shan looked down at his coffee, because he did want to fuck him. It was a bad idea. He knew it. KNEW IT. But he also knew he was caving in—sliding back into He Tian like he was a star and Guan Shan nothing but space dust.

“Do you have work today?” He Tian asked conversationally—like this was normal. Like they sat across from each other every damn morning.

“No,” Guan Shan answered. _You should have lied,_ his brain yelled.

“I can take you home after breakfast.”

“I don’t need you to,” he snapped.

“Don’t be a dick about it. I’m trying to be nice.”

“Well, don’t be nice,” Guan Shan sipped his coffee and picked at the bowl of fruit and yogurt.

He Tian smiled and leaned back in his seat, staring at him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Guan Shan jumped, looking up at him in surprise. “What? For what?” His mind was racing, heart hammering against his ribs.

“For not saying anything when I had to go. For not coming back sooner. For not being better when I was here…”

Guan Shan stared at him, expecting to see the lie in his eyes—the mirth and the joke there as he lured him in. But it wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a trick. There was nothing in his eyes but regret.

“You said you’re not the same as before, and neither am I. Can we start again? Be friends?”

Guan Shan laughed darkly. “Friends?”

He Tian shrugged in that beautiful, fluid way of his. “Sure. Why not?”

“That’s all you want from me?”

He Tian grinned wide. “No. I want to take you home, strip you down, and—”

“Shut up!” Guan Shan sat up straight. “Holy shit, we’re in public! You can’t talk like that!”

“You’re the one yelling…”

He groaned and looked away, but he could feel the heat in his cheeks. This was embarrassing. What was he supposed to do? Why was it so hard not to down his coffee and go running back to He Tian’s place? It had been five years. He should be over this. That was a joke… He had never been over it. He hadn’t taken the damned earrings out. Not once.

“Are you thinking about it?” He Tian asked with that smug look of his.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Maybe that was what worried Guan Shan most, He Tian knew when he was lying. He always had. “How long are you in town this time?” he asked, like He Tian came and went often. Like that time he took off hadn’t been a scar on his heart since childhood.

“I don’t know,” He Tian said, voice dropping as he stopped smiling. At least he was taking some things seriously. “But this time, I’d take you with me if I was going to leave.”

Guan Shan stared at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t make shit up to get into my pants.”

The smug smirk was back. “I don’t think I have to make things up to get in your pants… I’m pretty sure you’re going to get into my car after you finish that coffee.”

He stared at him hard, fighting the urge to deny it because they both knew it now. “I have rules.”

“Rules?” He Tian lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah. Don’t lie to me. No bullshit, or I’ll walk.”

“Okay,” He Tian nodded once like that was easy.

“I like to be manhandled…” Guan Shan confessed but kept his tone low and casual. Still, he saw the way He Tian’s eyes flared just a little, air sucking deep into his lungs. “But no hitting. We’re not kids anymore and I don’t hate myself _that_ much.”

He Tian had gone very still, eyes dark.

Guan Shan hesitated for the first time, second guessing this idea. He Tian had been thrilling, commanding, and had really seen Guan Shan when they were kids. But he’d been heavy handed and after his last ex, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t put up with that again.

“Would you like a safe word?”

Guan Shan blinked. “Do I need one?”

“Do you say no a lot when you mean yes?”

Guan Shan thought about that before shrugging once. He put his empty coffee cup down and stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Tangerine?”

He Tian smiled and rolled up out of his seat. Before he could drop cash on the table, Guan Shan did and then led the way out onto the sidewalk. He Tian directed them toward a parking garage up the block.

Guan Shan’s heart raced, despite all his efforts to act like this was no big deal—like he went home with guys all the time or maybe like he and He Tian did this all the time. Wouldn’t that be something. He’d spent the past five years trying not to imagine things like this—trying not to daydream. He swallowed hard, feeling all that want and fear twisting in his gut. This was going to end bad. Dynamite and matches, bad. He wouldn’t try to lie and if his past came up, he wouldn’t hide it. It was better to get it out, wasn’t it? He was pretty sure, this would be the end of any beginning they might have had. He Tian was probably just imagining the one he left behind—the kid he’d been. He’d change his mind soon. He’d get over the fantasy.

But Guan Shan would be left with the truth, with not being enough again. He got into He Tian’s car, thinking about dynamite and matches.

Boom.


	3. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got sexy! I don't know if you need to be warned, but consider yourself warned if you do. I'm not going to leave a note for every chapter that has sex but this is the first one sooooo this is officially a sexy story! Not all chapters will have sex, some will be more angsty relationship stuff and I might even kidnap someone at some point...

He Tian made conversation on the ride to his apartment building. He didn’t have to drag information out of Guan Shan like he had when they were kids—but he could still feel an edge to him, like he was unsure. He was still so easy to read—all of his feelings right there on his face.

“So, how many jobs do you have now?”

Guan Shan hummed, seeming to count in his head. “Seven, I guess.”

He Tian whistled.

“I mean, they’re obviously not all regular. Some I get called for when someone else doesn’t show up or they need extra help.”

“What jobs?”

Guan Shan cocked an eyebrow. “What’s _your_ job, again?”

He Tian grinned. “I haven’t said… But I do odd jobs for my brother.”

“Right,” he said. Sounding unimpressed and even more uninterested.

When they left the car again, He Tian slung an arm over Guan Shan’s shoulders and steered them up the steps to the building and toward the elevators. His Mo tensed for a split second and He Tian expected him to shove his arm off—like he would have when they were kids. But then he relaxed and when the elevator doors closed and they were alone, those slender hands curled in the front of his shirt and turned him, pushing He Tian up against the metal wall of the lift. Before he could even smile, that mouth was on his, tongue shoving past his lips like a perfect reverse of their first kiss.

He Tian would have laughed in delight if his mouth weren’t so very preoccupied. He’d been more than a little worried how to initiate contact with his redhead after his sudden agreement to come home with him. He’d almost winced when Guan Shan had stipulated no hitting, wanting to argue that he wasn’t that sort of person…but why would Mo believe him? They had both been violent when they were kids—prey fighting hard to become predators. And he wasn’t any less violent in life now—but it was directed elsewhere. It belonged in his work sometimes, but he had no intention of hurting Guan Shan in any way he didn’t explicitly enjoy.

The lean body of muscle pushed against his and when He Tian curled a hand around the back of Guan Shan’s head and shoved his tongue back in this wet war, the redhead surrendered, sucking He Tian’s tongue. He hooked an arm around Guan Shan’s back, pulling him harder, kissing him deeper, until the redhead moaned and He Tian felt light-headed with pride and want.

The elevator dinged and suddenly Mo pulled back from him, staggering away with a kiss-swollen mouth and lust-blown pupils.

Guan Shan stared at him, shivering once and his cheeks pink. He was beautiful.

He Tian grabbed him up and slung him over his shoulder, slapping that jean clad ass and marching down the hall toward his apartment door.

“Do you want to tell me more about what Little Mo likes in bed?” He Tian asked, squeezing one of his thighs with one hand all in the guise of holding him up on his shoulder while he fished out his keys and unlocked his apartment door.

Guan Shan shuddered, breath a little fast already. “Wh-What if I said I liked being the one in charge? What if I want to be the one fucking you?” the words wobbled a little despite his efforts.

He Tian laughed darkly, ducking them through the doorway and kicking the door shut behind him. “Well, I’d call you a liar but if you really wanted to…” He walked down the narrow hallway, not bothering with any lights yet and flung his redhead onto the bed.

Guan Shan sat up almost immediately, like he might just decide to leave. “Y-You’re serious?”

He Tian crawled onto the bed, between his legs and pulled his shirt up. Guan Shan almost didn’t let him and he wondered if he really was having second thoughts or if he was just playing. But before he could ask, his redhead lifted his arms and let He Tian peel off the shirt, tossing it away.

In the dim room, he still managed to catch those eyes staring at him. Wondering if he meant it. Would he let Guan Shan be in charge? Would he let him fuck him? It wasn’t how he’d imagined it or how he thought his redhead would want it but, of course. “I’d let you do just about anything,” he said, voice steady though a little deeper than usual, weighed down with lust. He stared back at him in the dark, their faces close, and leaned his hips down until they were pressed to Guan Shan’s. The other man gasped a little, mouth falling open and hips rolling up against his. “So, tell me what you want…” he whispered now, hips moving slowly, rubbing against him until he could feel his Mo growing hard.

“Just say it,” He Tian coaxed, long fingers wrapping slowly around Guan Shan’s neck, watching him closely for his response. He moaned darkly when He Tian pushed him flat onto the bed by his neck, chest rising and falling a little faster and hips pushing up against his again. So, he really did like to be manhandled. He Tian would study him this time, watch every reaction to see what exactly he liked and didn’t like—because He Tian had every intention of there being a next time.

“Do you want me to guess what you want?” He Tian whispered darkly, trailing lips and tongue and teeth down that long neck, one hand still holding just under Mo’s jaw to keep his head high, feeling his pulse jump under his fingers and his hot little gasps. “Do you want me to bite you?” he asked curiously, running his teeth over the soft skin at the base of the redhead’s neck.

Guan Shan shuddered under him, whimpering once and giving a little, jerking nod.

He Tian kept his hold on Guan Shan’s neck, waiting a few agonizing still seconds, before opening wide and biting at the base of his neck. Guan Shan moaned and bucked under him, body shivering out of his control. He Tian kept his teeth on him, not enough to break skin but it would leave a pretty mark for a couple days.

He slid down the redhead’s torso, leaving bite marks and drinking in how he jumped and moaned. His fingers ghosted over tattoos he could make out in the dark, shadows over pale skin. Every so often his fingertips brushed scars, some tiny and some large enough to warrant a story. He made mental notes to find out later. To ask all the questions. To nudge and annoy Guan Shan until he knew absolutely everything about him.

When he unbuckled Guan Shan’s pants and slid those jeans off his long legs, the momentum changed. The redhead sat up on his elbows and He Tian could feel those red eyes watching him, studying him in the dark. Mo was naked and sprawled on his bed, breath quick and obviously turned on. But there was a frantic energy to his lust, like he might change his mind at any second. Thank god they’d picked a safe word…

He Tian took off his shirt and dropped it, staring back at him in the dark and for long seconds they weren’t touching, his knees on the bed on either side of one of Guan Shan’s legs. “Say what you want,” he demanded.

Guan Shan shivered once before his hands curled into fists. “Fuck you,” he snapped, like he was picking a fight.

He Tian bit back a moan, sliding off the bed to strip down. Those seconds were long enough for the redhead to gather himself. It was all perfect orchestrated. Guan Shan didn’t try to dodge He Tian and roll off the bed until He Tian was close enough to stop him, grabbing him up and hauling him back, dragging him up the bed until he was in the center of it. His struggle was superficial, all squirming and shoving and gasping, no actual hitting. He Tian moaned, finally pinning him face down on the bed, one arm twisted up behind his back and his own weight pressing down his legs. His Mo was so high strung, body itching for more but mind still bucking against affection.

“You’re going to say it,” He Tian said, voice brutally even despite their struggle, despite his hard on rubbing against Guan Shan’s hip. His free hand trailed down the redhead’s spine, feeling his skin jump under his touch. “If you don’t say it, you won’t get it,” he continued.

He Tian sucked two fingers, making wet sounds near Guan Shan’s ear. The redhead jerked under him, testing his hold, but he hadn’t let go of the arm behind his back—hadn’t lifted his weight from the leg he had pinned. He did push his knee up though, forcing Guan Shan’s legs to spread more and hearing how his breath quickened into tight gasps. His saliva wet fingers trailed the cleft of the redhead’s ass and He Tian drank in the string of sounds he made when he brushed his asshole, testing it before pressing one finger in.

Guan Shan strained under him, mouth open and forehead pressing down against the mattress. “N-No…”

He Tian froze for a split second at that word, finger halfway in to his ass. “Little Mo…” he purred, remembering that they’d decided on a safe word and biting softly at his shoulder to elicit another moan. He slid his finger in to the knuckle and shivered at how Guan Shan’s ass seemed to suck at the digit. He built a pace quickly and when the redhead started rocking back against it, he added a second finger.

“Fuck!” Guan Shan gasped, body shaking.

“Say it…” He Tian prodded.

The redhead panted, free arm moving at his side, trembling fingers wrapping around He Tian’s erection and stroking almost timidly—as if the action was beyond his control.

He Tian moaned, fingers curling and thrusting inside the tight ass. “You still have to say it,” he growled against the redhead’s shoulder. “I’ll finger you until you cry if you don’t.”

Guan Shan cursed, whined, squirmed, and stroked, but He Tian waited him out. And then, he stopped. He Tian stopped moving his hand, fingers buried deep and Guan Shan still pinned so that he couldn’t even rub himself against the bed. “Fuck!” Guan Shan grunted, whole body practically vibrating with need.

“Tell me what you want,” He Tian pressed.

Gasping at angry breaths, Guan Shan rolled his head to the side and stared back at him—his eyes glossy and his cheeks red with heat. “F-Fuck me. I want you inside me.”

He Tian shivered. Guan Shan made it sound like a last wish, like a shameful goodbye.

He sat up and flipped the redhead over, grabbing his neck and pulling him down. Guan Shan moaned darkly, one hand holding on to He Tian’s wrist but not trying to pull his hand away from his neck. His long legs were bent on either side of He Tian’s hips.

Grinding them together, He Tian snatched the lube from his bedside table and managed to pop it open and wet that hole with one hand, tossing it aside and giving his as another few strokes, two fingers and then three.

Guan Shan moaned, and squirmed under him, pushing against his fingers until he replaced them with his dick. He pushed and for a second he wasn’t sure he’d stretched him enough, and then he was sliding inside him and his vision blurred. He’d been fantasizing about his Little Mo for five years, a part of him never believing he’d see him again, let alone be here with him like this.

Guan Shan’s hips moved, rocking against him, fucking himself on He Tian with a keening sound, like he didn’t mean to but couldn’t stop himself. The idea made He Tian moan darkly—that his Mo, so emotionally fucked up, wanted this intimacy with him that much. He leaned forward, holding Guan Shan in place by his neck and hips rocking up into him. He wished he’d turned on the lights, because he knew he was missing some great expressions. He could see them dimly, but not in all the livid unfiltered hues of pink he knew Mo was giving them up.

Next time, his mind said distantly.

He fucked him steadily, waiting to see if his Little Mo would touch himself, but he didn’t, free hand fisted in the covers and body jerking and writhing under him.

“Tell me what you want,” He Tian moaned darkly.

Guan Shan arched and shivered, hips rocking into He Tian’s thrusts. “P…” he bit into his bottom lip before he could say it, before he could beg. Guan Shan wouldn’t beg.

“Just say it,” He Tian pressed, moving faster, fucking him harder and watching the way his eyes lost focus. “No lies, remember?” he panted. “I said I’d give you anything… Just say it…”

Mo’s teeth clenched so hard He Tian worried he’d break something. It was like he was choking on it—on saying he wanted something, on needing anything from someone else. He didn’t have to beg or even ask. He could whisper. He could demand. He Tian would move mountains for either.

Mo had tears in his eyes when he gasped for air and looked up at He Tian. “Help me.”

The words were barely audible and far from what He Tian had expected. He kissed him, bodies rocking together, and moved one hand between them, stroking him.

Soon they were both finished, wrecked against one another and shakily peeling themselves apart.

For long minutes they just lay there, tangled and panting while their brains rebooted. He Tian found himself waiting for the moment Guan Shan recoiled back into himself, but he didn’t—he wasn’t that kid anymore. All his damage was laid out now, not seething under the surface.

“Stay?” He Tian asked. The question was too open, he realized when the silence stretched. “Shower. Eat lunch. You said you didn’t have work today…”

Guan Shan hummed, thinking.

He Tian ran a hand up his side. “I’m offering you free food. Since when do you turn that down?”

“Have you learned how to cook?”

He Tian laughed. “No…”

“I guess I’ll see what you have before I decide then,” he muttered, sounding sleepy.

“Are you really falling asleep right now?”

Guan Shan hummed.

“You literally have cum in and on you…”

“Since when do you give a shit about a mess?”

He Tian couldn’t really argue that. He sighed and sat up, leaning for the bedside table and the lamp.

“Don’t!” Guan Shan snapped but He Tian had already flicked on the lights.

For a second he just blinked at his redhead, thinking he’d opposed the lights because he really wanted to sleep, but then he saw him—really saw him. Oh, he was still the beautiful aftermath he’d expected, naked and sweaty with cum on his chest and faint red marks where He Tian had used his teeth. But under all that were the scars, at least a dozen he could see on his chest, his hips and a couple on his thighs. He Tian might have suspected Guan Shan had made a habit of getting into fights, but his face was so damn clean that his body was almost shocking.

And then there were the tattoos. Black ink over his left side, over the largest of the scars, was printed _“Don’t Close Mountain”_ and then, right there, over his heart, was _“He”_.

He Tian dragged his gaze up the other man, to his face. A mix of panic, shame, and fear. He looked like his old self all of a sudden—like a kid who expected trouble. He opened his mouth to speak, not even sure what his first question would be.

Guan Shan was up, off the bed and snatching his pants off the floor. “I’m showering and then I’ll go,” he snapped, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door—leaving He Tian dumbfounded in his wake.


	4. Glass

Guan Shan locked the bathroom door, flicked on the light and dropped the pants he’d taken with him. At least he’d had that much foresight. _Fuck!_ What was he expecting? He knew what he looked like.

As though he didn’t, he side-eyed his reflection. He’d gotten the tattoos on impulse—trying desperately to cover something painful with the rare memories that weren’t. He almost laughed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked like a stalker, didn’t he? A fucked-up stalker who did no actual stalking—just pining. _FUCK!_

He got into the shower and turned the water up as hot as it would go, steam gushing through the room. He would shower, get dressed, grab his shit, and leave. He’d wanted to know what it was like to be with He Tian and now he did. It had been better than he’d ever dreamed, and it wasn’t going to make living without him any easier. Had he really convinced himself it would? Like he’d be able to get him out of his system if he just overdosed on He Tian? He was so pissed with himself that he shoved his face under the spray to keep from screaming.

The doorframe splintered when He Tian kicked it in and Guan Shan jerked back and looked around the frosted glass partition to see the other man. He was in a pair of sweatpants now and looking angry.

“What the fuck?” Guan Shan shouted, never one to shy away from an angry He Tian. “Wait your damn turn!”

 

* * *

 

He Tian had sat there for all of a minute, completely blindsided.

He had questions—a lot of questions—but what finally snapped him out of it was replaying how Little Mo had stormed off to the bathroom. _“I’ll shower and then I’ll go,”_ he’d said. Like He Tian had told him to leave. Like HE was the bad guy!

_Oh, hell no._

He paced, put on a pair of sweatpants, and then finally went to the bathroom, unable to wait. The door was locked—so he did the only reasonable thing and kicked it open.

Steam rolled out and he marched in.

Guan Shan took a step back from the spray and the glass wall to stare back at him, indignant and matching his temper. Thank god for that. What would he have done if his Little Mo was skittish? And there was that tattoo again, staring at him. His name over that heart. _His heart._

“Did you think I wouldn’t turn on the lights? _Ever?_ ” He Tian kept his voice low.

“Fuck you! Get out!”

He Tian came closer, leaning against the wall and looking Guan Shan over again, still naked but now pink from the heat of the shower. “No point in acting like you hate me. You literally wrote my name on you…”

“Shut up!” Guan Shan snapped, giving him a shove before going back to showering—like the conversation was over.

He Tian didn’t move. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

He Tian’s lip curled, almost a snarl and he came forward, into the spray. His redhead turned just in time to see him coming and tried to back away, only corning himself with no where to go and his back to the tiles. “This one?” He Tian asked, fingers brushing the thick scar on his side, snaking under his old nickname.

Guan Shan jumped a little, either from the cool touch of his fingers after that hot water or from the memory.

He Tian half expected him not to answer.

“Car accident. Didn’t want to see it every day. Didn’t want to think about it.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.” His fingers trailed up, over a few smaller scars to land on the two slashes only vaguely hidden by _‘He’_ on his chest. “These?”

Guan Shan’s throat bobbed when he swallowed. His chin pushed up and his red rimmed eyes glared up at He Tian defiantly. “Glass table. Broke under me.”

“How’d you end up on the table?”

“Someone threw me on it.”

“And then?”

Guan Shan’s nose wrinkled and he shoved hard at He Tian’s chest, pushing him back a step. “What does it matter?”

“You put my name on it. I think it matters.”

That took the temper out of his Little Mo. He looked stricken and maybe guilty. He leaned back against the wall. He looked at the ground between them and the shower water swirling there. “I can just leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to tell me.”

He was quiet for a long time, like maybe he’d just try to wait He Tian out. The water would go cold long before that happened.

“It was a couple years ago…” he mumbled, still not looking up. “We weren’t really dating but we did stuff. He was…heavy handed. I thought it was okay at first. I can take a lot, you know.”

He Tian held his breath so he wouldn’t respond and break whatever spell had Guan Shan spilling his guts. He had no doubt that his Little Mo could take a lot, but that didn’t mean he should. He deserved better…but how would he know that?

“His roommate moved out so I moved in… It got worse. He thought he owned everything in that house.” His mouth quirked in a grim, furious smile. “ _Everything._ ”

“No one owns Mo Guan Shan,” He Tian whispered what he knew raged in that heart. “No one controls you.”

Those red eyes looked up at him. He was still smiling, but there were tears in his eyes. “Imagine _me_ , in that kind of relationship… Shit got dark. I _always_ fought. He always won. He never hit me in the face though. Not sure if that was because he liked it or because he didn’t want me to miss work.”

He Tian swallowed hard. He could imagine it easily. Little Mo wouldn’t go down without a fight and a person like that would take it as a challenge. “How long?”

Guan Shan looked confused for a few seconds before shrugging. “Not long. Half a year, maybe?”

He Tian clicked his teeth and shifted to keep from swearing. He didn’t want his redhead to regret sharing. He didn’t want to fuck this up. “The scar?”

Guan Shan flushed, looking down at it once and then away again. “I was leaving. He’d broken my arm. I decided that was enough.” He said everything in fast, clipped sentences. Like if he kept it all straight facts, it wouldn’t hurt. “After getting the cast, I came back to grab my stuff while he was at work…He was supposed to be at work. We had a fight. He threw me on the table. I got cut up pretty bad. Had to walk myself back to the hospital and get stitches.”

“And?”

Guan Shan stared at him. “What?” it came out in a breath.

“What else happened? That’s not enough to make you tattoo my name over it. I know how much you’d hate me seeing it someday. Even if you thought I wouldn’t come back…it’s not like you to chance it.”

“You don’t know—” he started but the gusto had gone, the words coming out flat rather than with the fire of his temper.

He Tian came closer, hand pressing to the tiles beside his head and leaning in. He stole a kiss and lingered. “You said no lying, remember?”

“I said _you_ weren’t allowed to lie…” he reminded.

He Tian smirked and nipped his bottom lip before drawing back enough to look down at him. “Just say it now, so you don’t have to hang on to it anymore. I’ll know and it’ll be over.”

Guan Shan looked up at him, face set grimly but for the red rimming his eyes and giving away that well of emotion. “I passed out when he threw me into the table.” His voice was low and He Tian knew if he missed a single word now, he’d never have a second chance to hear them. Not that he needed to—not really. He could imagine and the point was really for Mo to say whatever he wanted to say—whatever he needed to get off his chest. “When I woke up, I was still on the broken table, on the glass, and he was on top of me.” His face twisted up, like he was still confused. “I mean, I was bleeding all over the fucking place and that asshole was still going to…” He took a deep breath and let it out, turning his head like he could hide the tears in his eyes—like he needed to. “I stabbed him in the leg with a chunk of glass and got out of there. Left all my shit behind and just didn’t go back. But every time I saw those two scars I just felt like shit—like I didn’t matter—like I was still face down in a pile of broken glass…”

He Tian nodded slowly when the silence stretched, tears in his eyes too. It took everything he had not to ask what the guy’s name had been. It would be easy to find him. It would be easy to do what everyone in his family was so damn good at doing—wrecking people. But that would sound too much like Guan Shan couldn’t and hadn’t taken care of himself. He had, even if he’d been damn slow about it. No one controlled Little Mo.

He traced one of the long lines of the _‘H’_ in _‘He’_ tattooed over the scars and smiled slowly, warmly. “You fuckin love me,” he whispered.

Guan Shan’s gaze shot up to him, shoulders pressing back and lips tight.

“You put your nickname over the car crash scars because you wanted to remember something good when you saw it…”

“That’s not what I said,” Mo argued in a mumbled. “I said I didn’t want to remember the crash. That nickname was stupid and I hated it.”

“Liar. It’s literally on your skin.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“You wanted to remember me.”

Guan Shan’s mouth snapped shut and a blush spread across his cheeks. “Oh shit,” he said it like he’d just realized it himself. And then, with a growl, shoved He Tian back and turned off the water.

“You’re not going to threaten to leave again are you?” He Tian asked, sweatpants soaked through from shower water.

“What? No. I’m going to make us lunch.” He grabbed a towel and stomped out of the bathroom.

“Are you moving in?” He Tian called, squirming out of wet sweatpants.

“No!” Guan Shan shouted from the other room. “But I might poison your food if you keep that up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the feedback on this so far! I have some plans for where this is going but if you have anything you want to see happen, feel free to let me know. I might not be able to get it into this story, but maybe I can do another one. No harm tossing out ideas!


	5. Snow

They were dating.

Kind of.

Mo was trying to be an adult about it—not the pessimistic, asshole he really was. But every time he took his eyes off He Tian, a part of him thought it would be the last—thought he’d vanish again and that would be the end of it. And it would hurt more this time, because this time wasn’t a confusing crush. This time was already a lot more. He slept at He Tian’s apartment some night and though he asked him to just move in, Mo couldn’t. He knew He Tian wasn’t like his ex—wouldn’t think he owned him if he lived with him, but the fear was still there, still real enough to drive him out of that cozy, posh apartment and back into his daily grind.

He Tian had made a habit of showing up in all the right places, learning his erratic schedule and meeting up for lunch or dinner. From there, it was never hard to talk Mo into going home with him for another night. He Tian was like gravity and Mo was getting tired of fighting the fall.

It had been three weeks since they first had sex and he told He Tian the sad, pathetic tale of his life—or, at least, the abridged version. He Tian hadn’t asked him anything more about it after that. Hadn’t poked every little scar to check the story. And Mo had been grateful beyond belief.

He stared at his phone in his hand, considering his whole fucking relationship with He Tian and trying to decide if he should call or not. It was almost morning, almost being the key word because that meant it was horribly early. It was starting to snow and he was leaning against a brick wall without his jacket or his bag—which meant he didn’t have his subway card. His breath formed in the air.

“Fuck.” He tapped the screen and then the first number, _“asshole”_. It rang twice. Each time he thought to hang up.

“Are you okay?” He Tian answered.

Mo blinked, surprised by the immediate question.

“Mo?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Why the fuck would you ask that? Why not start with _“hello”_?” Mo snapped and then rolled his eyes to himself because he was, in fact, calling for help. He swore he could hear He Tian smiling on the other end.

“You never call me.”

“Of course, I do.”

“No. You don’t. You either answer when I call or you text.”

Mo took a breath and let it out slowly.

“Are you outside?” He Tian asked.

Mo looked around at the fat snowflakes. “Did I wake you?”

“No. Where the fuck are you?” He Tian’s voice stayed even but he could hear him moving around, the rustle of clothing and the jingle of keys.

Mo looked around the corner, down the block at the big house being rented for tonight’s high roller party.

“Guan Shan?” He Tian used his name. Maybe he really was worried.

Mo cringed. He hadn’t meant to do that. “I’m fine. I just… It’s stupid, but I could use your help…”

“Where are you?” He Tian asked again and this time Mo heard a door and then another and was pretty sure He Tian was running down a stairwell.

He told him the street address. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t need to rush or anything.”

“That’s not far from here. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Mo scrunched his face. Sure that it was at least a fifteen minute drive from where He Tian lived.

“What happened?”

Mo wrinkled his nose and leaned his head back against the brick wall. This was what he’d been trying to avoid, but even if he got He Tian to let the question go now—it would come back up when he arrived.

“I was crashing at this house—”

“Whose house?”

“I don’t know. It was a party.”

“You were sleeping at a party again?” He Tian said each word curiously, the sound of an engine behind him now.

“Yeah. I do that. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

The silence on the other end, the revving motor and squealing tires, suggested He Tian would probably be making a big deal about it but was just waiting to get all the details first.

“Some assholes thought I was passed out drunk and tried to… _take advantage_.” He didn’t love the term and rolled his eyes to himself. Fuck, it was cold out here.

“Are you okay?”

“I said I was fine. They were pretty fucking surprised when I wasn’t drunk. I think I broke one of their noses and the other one is going to have his balls up in his throat for a week, but the problem is I had to get out of the house in a hurry and all my shit is still in that room.”

He Tian was quiet for a long time. A minute at least.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound angry. That was good. Mo had called him at four in the morning, probably woken him up, and dragged him out into the cold to get his bag back and so far he wasn’t yelling.

“Are you still coming?” Mo felt stupid. He should just go in himself and get his fucking bag and jacket but _that_ was stupid. He’d fucked up two of them when he got out, but they had friends.

The line went dead.

Mo looked at his phone and then groaned, pocketing it and feeling like an idiot. Fine. He’d deal with it himself. He didn’t even know why he’d called He Tian. He’d been dealing with shit himself for years. He could—

The car pulled up to the curb, breaking hard, and Mo jumped back. He blinked at it, recognizing the Maserati. He Tian got out of the car and Mo stared at him, surprised. He was wearing a t-shirt and black sweats, no jacket. He came right up to Mo and started looking him over and Mo was so stunned he didn’t even know what to say.

 

* * *

 

He Tian looked over Mo’s clothes, nothing ripped, and then grabbed his chin and gently lifted, turning his head one way and then the other, checking his neck and face for bruises or welts. Nothing. He almost sighed in relief. The redhead looked perfect.

“Why are you sleeping at parties?” He Tian asked.

The question snapped Mo out of his shock and he slapped He Tian’s hand away from his chin. “I was tired and these things are always full of people no one knows from the clubs.”

And Mo would hear about all the house parties at work—probably got invited to them. But why the hell was he going there just to sleep? He Tian’s eyes grew. He felt like he’d just been slapped and all he could do was smile like an idiot because his mind was being blown! “Are you homeless?” He had never seen Mo go home. He had no idea where Mo lived. They had been dating for a damned month and he didn’t actually know where Mo lived! He was always working or going to the gym, and sometimes he stayed at He Tians.

Mo’s eyes widened.

“Son of a bitch!” He Tian scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t need to pay rent for someplace when I’m working all the time anyway.”

“Why aren’t you staying with you mom?” He Tian blurted out and regretted it instantly, because Mo’s face softened. He didn’t look surprised or exactly hurt, just quietly sad.

“The car accident a few years ago…” Mo said softly. “She was driving. She didn’t make it.”

He Tian stared at him, his heart breaking. “I’m sorry. I should have known…”

Mo shook his head shortly. “How would you? I hadn’t told you.”

He Tian didn’t ask why. He knew why. It was the same reason Mo had tattooed over the scar from the wreck—he hadn’t wanted to think about it.

“I’m sorry I woke you up for some stupid—”

He Tian grabbed Mo behind the neck and pulled him into his chest, hugging him. “Shut the fuck up,” he said softly into that red hair. “I’m glad you called. You would have been an idiot to go back inside by yourself.”

Mo sighed against his chest, arms slowly curling against his sides.

He Tian realized then that the redhead was practically frozen. “How long did you stand around out here trying to decide whether or not to call?”

“Does it matter? I called, didn’t I?” Mo snapped.

He Tian shook his head and shoved him a step back. “Point out the house. Let’s go get your stuff.”

Mo led the way back to the house. Most of the guests inside were asleep, passed out on beds and couches and even in heaps on the floor. But a group in the kitchen was still awake, riled up by one still curled on his side and cupping his junk and another holding a wet towel to his bloody face. Momo had definitely broken that guy’s nose. He Tian would have laughed if he wasn’t doing his seriously pissed face. The other two guys, probably friends of the injured ones, puffed up the second they saw Mo walking back into the house—they froze when they saw He Tian with him.

“Grab your things,” He Tian told Mo. The redhead nodded once, glancing at the strangers before taking the stairs two at a time. He was back in a flash, jacket on and bag in hand.

The strangers inched forward.

“That fucking monster attacked me,” wheezed the one with the broken nose.

“You deserved worse,” He Tian said before Mo could say anything.

For a long second, they all measured each other up. The guy with the broken nose didn’t move from where he sat, still holding a towel to his face. He’d have to go to a hospital if he didn’t want it to be crooked forever.

He Tian stared hard at the other two men. Waiting for them to make a decision. Finally one grunted and backed away and the other followed, deciding this had become too much work for their friend’s broken pride.

Mo grabbed his arm and gave one tug before turning and leaving, trusting He Tian to follow. He did, because he liked the feel of his trust. Mo had called him for help. He wasn’t going to fuck that up. He wanted to always be the number Mo called for help—hopefully without hesitation in the future.

Back in the car, He Tian sped down the street, moving toward his apartment. “Stay at my place tonight?”

Mo hummed. “Night’s over.”

“When do you have work?”

“Not until later afternoon.”

“Lazy morning?”

Mo let out a sigh before he could hold it back, blushing a little and nodding.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He Tian asked again, for the last time. He’d looked him over for bruises or marks. He trusted Mo with a lot of things, but Mo was a survivor and he’d lie if he needed to. Worst of all, he could be really good at it when he needed to be.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming.”

He Tian tried not to smile. “Any time.” They were quiet for a couple minutes, sitting at a red light. “You know it’s stupid of you to be sleeping in strangers houses when I have a whole apartment to myself.”

“Don’t.”

“You don’t have to call it moving in. Just fucking sleep there instead of wherever else you’ve been sleeping… Where else have you been sleeping?”

Mo shrugged.

He Tian waited.

“Sometimes at the gym. Sometimes the backroom at the bakery. I’ve rented karaoke rooms a couple times to sleep for a few hours…”

He Tian managed not to groan or roll his eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” Mo, that asshole, smirked to himself. “You’re such a fucking narcissist… You never even asked.”

“Fuck you! You’re not making me into the bad guy. You know you could have just slept at my place.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You kind of do.”

“I don’t need handouts.”

“Do you need handjobs? I have those at my place…”

“Fuck you!”

“That can happen there too! You’re an idiot.”

Mo pouted.

“But you’re _my_ idiot.”


	6. Sharp Objects

He Tian had moved his “business” to the club. His business seemed to mean meeting with people for his brother and talking terms or deals or exchanging envelopes and papers. Shady shit that looked right at home in a VIP booth at a club. Mo was also pretty sure He Tian only did business when Mo was on shift.

Mo placed a dozen flutes of champagne on a tray for one of the waitresses, glancing up at the VIP table He Tian occupied. He was arguing with a man sitting across from him. Of course, no one else would know that looking at him from this distance—he looked all too composed. But that was the giveaway. He was focused on the guy at the table and not sneaking glances at Mo—which meant he must be pissed at him.

He was about to go back to mixing drinks when he saw it—the moment He Tian went completely still. The other guy was still talking, yelling over the music at He Tian, his face red and swelling with anger. He had both hands under the table. Mo left his station at the bar, the other bartender calling to him in confusion but Mo waved her off and jumped the bar. He wove through the crowd and came up to the VIP section to the right, so that when he walked down the aisle, he would be coming up behind the stranger.

He Tian’s dark eyes met his for a split second. He wasn’t sure what he saw in them. A moment of fear?

When Mo came closer, he could make out what the man was saying. Something about loyalty and how things had been done when He Tian’s father was in charge and how dare He Cheng think he can change things. “You’re nothing but spoiled princes!” the man spat. “I should shoot you right here. What would your brother do then?”

Mo took the pocketknife from his jeans and flicked it open. He jumped up onto the seat of the booth behind theirs, leaning over the back and grabbing a fistful of the man’s hair. He pulled, forcing the stranger’s head high and pressed the slender knife to his thick throat. He saw the florescent club lights shimmer in those wide, shocked eyes. “I don’t know what his brother would do—but I would skin you alive.” He pressed the blade tighter, cutting a thin line. “And I’d start with your dick.”

The man shivered, Mo felt it and grinned wolfishly.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man snapped.

“Oh, that’s my boyfriend. He has a temper,” He Tian said casually.

“Put the gun on the fucking table,” Mo demanded. They’d drawn the attention of the guards, the big guys inching over, looking uneasily to He Tian for orders before getting too close.

After another second, the man’s hands came up from under the table and he put his gun down, hands raising. “You can’t kill me, boy. It would cause a war,” he said to He Tian, trying to sound smug but even Mo could hear the note of worry in his voice.

“That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? You would kill me and start a war with He Cheng?” He Tian gestured to the guards and they came over, one pocketing the gun from the table. The other looked to Mo, maybe trying to figure out how to pull the guy to his feet without slitting his throat while Mo still held him like that.

Mo let the man go, flicking his pocketknife shut and slipping it away into his jeans again. He rubbed the hair grease on his hand onto the seat while the guards hauled the guy away. Mo stepped over the seatback and slid down into his place across from He Tian.

He Tian pushed his drink across the table and Mo downed it.

He Tian smiled slowly. “Look at you,” he practically purred.

Mo nodded. “You should tip me.”

“In cash or sex?”

Mo flashed a grin.

He Tian put a cigarette between his lips, lighting up. “I was kinda worried when I saw you coming…” he admitted, almost too quiet to be heard over the music.

“Thought I’d fuck it up?” Mo asked, watching He Tian take the first breath of smoke, shaking his head and exhaling.

“I was afraid you’d get hurt.”

Mo laughed and held out his hand, long fingers wiggling for the cigarette. “I don’t hurt easy.”

He Tian stared back at him and for a second Mo regretted his words—because He Tian was the only one in the world who could argue differently, could argue that Mo got hurt all too easily when it had nothing to do with skin and bones. Instead, he handed him the cigarette. “You’ve done that before?”

“What? Saved you?” Mo laughed out smoke. He shook his head to answer. “Not like that, no. But I’ve met plenty of assholes.” Mo rolled the cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully. “Are you going to kill that guy?”

He Tian stared at him hard, that darkness in his eyes again, creating a distance between himself and the world. “What if I am?”

Mo stared back, shocked to realize that He Tian thought he might be rejected—that Mo would be the one that ended things between them, that he’d decided he was too dark or too fucked up. It was almost laughable to the redhead. If anyone was going to be doing the heartbreaking in this disaster of a relationship, it was He Tian. Mo took another drag and then held out the cigarette. “Do you need help?”

Surprise broke that dead stare of He Tian’s. He reached out and took back the cigarette. “Are you serious?”

Mo shrugged. “Not my dream job but if it’s something you do…” He sighed and looked away, out toward the club floor. He hated saying shit like this. Hated that he was so obviously, painfully, in love with He Tian. That they were going to go down in flames together, because Mo would never be able to leave him to save himself—couldn’t even imagine it. He wanted to burn if it meant he’d be burning with He Tian. “If that’s your life then let’s do it.”

He stared at the bar. Shit. He’d left the bar. He could see the manager talking to the other bartender, probably demanding to know where Mo had gone. She pointed up to the VIP lounge and Mo looked away before his manager could look up and meet his gaze—it was bad enough he was sitting in the lounge on his shift, it would be worse if he was just staring back like a fucking idiot.

Before he realized He Tian had even gotten up, Mo was being pulled to his feet. He looked up, surprised, and He Tian kissed him. It started off shockingly tender, careful and sweet, and then it devolved into a lot of tongue and both of them pulling at each other’s clothes like if it weren’t for those thin layers, they’d be fucking on the damned table.

Mo shoved He Tian back, trying to think straight. “You’re going to get me fired,” he mumbled, trying to be reasonable, trying to convince himself to go back downstairs.

“Oh, Momo, you’ve got a new job,” He Tian grinned wickedly, flashing those suspiciously terrifying fangs of his. Before Mo could say anything, He Tian had picked him up and tossed him over a shoulder, giving his thigh a squeeze and heading for the exit.

“What? You know, saying that and then picking me up like this makes it sound like I’m a whore…”

“If you want me to pay you for that stuff I would,” He Tian offered. “You do have a talent for—”

“I am not a whore,” Mo kneed him in the chest.

He Tian puffed out a breath and a laugh, kicking open the exit and walking them out into the cold, fresh air of the night.

“Seriously, if I leave, I’ll lose my job,” Mo continued, but hadn’t really made any effort to escape, most of his mind still fixed on the idea of going home and fucking—or maybe just to the car. Yeah. The car would work. Maybe he could go back to work after.

“Fuck that job, you’ll love being a mobster. It suits you.”

Mo shivered at the idea. “How so?” Why did he love this idea?

“You’re sexy and you do a great crazy smile. Just be menacing and hang out with me.”

When He Tian put him on his feet beside the car, Mo stared up at him, serious now. “That’s not a job. That’s date night.”

He Tian leaned forward, their hips bumping and pushed Mo back against the side of the car, looming over him. “I don’t trust a lot of people, Mo. I could use someone next to me. I’ll never make you do anything, or be a part of anything, you don’t want. And if you ever want out, you just say so.”

Mo stared up at him, fingers hooking into the front of He Tian’s pants. “Is that how joining the mob works?” he asked skeptically. It was a bad idea, but he knew he wouldn’t say no— _couldn’_ t say no to him.

He Tian shook his head slowly, one hand bracing the side of Mo’s neck and thumb stroking under his jaw. “No. You won’t work for anyone. You’re not in. You’re part of me. You’ll only go where I go.”

Mo shivered, fingers going still. He blinked up at him. Was he serious? Like partners? The dark pessimistic part of his brain tried to argue—tried to say it was some sort of trick to make him let down his guard or to put him in the position to take the fall for something horrible. That part of his brain was an asshole, but it had saved him more times than he could count. But that part of his brain didn’t know He Tian—couldn’t feel the way he looked at him with so much hope and want, like He Tian was the fragile one.

The side door to the club opened and his manager stepped out, holding the door and blushing at the sight of Mo and one of their best customers practically pressed together and leaning against a car. He coughed noticeably and shot Mo a look over He Tian’s shoulder.

He Tian waited, staring at Mo like he hadn’t heard the other guy come out of the club—like there was no one in the world but Mo. “I know I’m offering you a fucked-up life. I know it’s selfish. I tried to leave you alone, to not come back to you, but I’m just not that good of a person, Mo. If you want to pretend I don’t do what I do, that’s fine. I’ll protect that pretend.”

Mo stared up at him and almost laughed. He Tian meant it.

“Matches and dynamite,” Mo said.

He Tian actually looked worried, hiding his disappointment and straightening so that Mo could get out from between him and the car and go back to work.

Mo slid his hand around the back of He Tian’s neck and practically pulled himself up against him, shivering at how those arms wrapped around his back to hold him up—just like he’d known they would. He’d never been able to count on anyone in his life—no one but He Tian. He kissed him, fingers gripping the back of He Tian’s dark hair, messing it up and not caring. When he pulled back from the kiss he had to gasp for air, pupils blown and heart pounding. “I’m not calling you _“boss”_ and I don’t wear suits.”

He Tian grinned wide, opening the door and shoving Mo inside. He had to scoot over the driver’s seat and gearshifts into the passenger side. He caught a glimpse of the club manager looking furious on the back step. He flailed an arm in Mo’s direction, a classic “what the hell?” gesture. Mo shrugged in the vaguest “I quit” ever. He’d have to come by and apologize and formally quit tomorrow. That would suck, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot! Action!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the feedback. It really means the world to me!


	7. Breakfast

Mo stretched, walking down the hallway to the kitchen, bare feet padding along the floor and sweatpants hanging on his hip. He Tian had gotten up early and gone to the gym and Mo had slept in with a vague promise to make breakfast.

He started the coffee machine first—priorities.

The front door chimed when it was unlocked and He Tian came in.

Mo didn’t turn to see him in the hallway or call a hello. He wasn’t some fucking housewife.

He heard the footsteps padding down the hall, into the kitchen, up behind him, a silhouette in the edges of his peripheral. Already he knew something was off—something was wrong—but he ignored it because he recognized that shape, or, at least, he thought he did.

“I haven’t started breakfast yet. Coffee will be ready soon…” Mo mumbled, turning toward the fridge.

An arm curled around his waist, pulling him back, and he realized instantly what was wrong. This wasn’t He Tian. He smelled expensive, not unlike He Tian, but not quite him. And his grip wasn’t right.

Mo slammed an elbow back, into the guy’s side, driving a gush of air from his lungs and twisting to try to get around him and away—looking for some space.

A hand caught his arm and threw him back against the counter again. They grappled and fuck did this guy LOOK like He Tian! He even fought like him. He dodged a punch Mo threw and gave him another shove, back against the counter again, boxing him in. “Calm down, puppy,” the man said with a smile, the kind of asshole-smile He Tian got sometimes when he was being a dick.

Suddenly Mo remembered this guy. He had seen him a few times when they were kids. He had been younger then, of course. He clamped his hands against the edge of the counter to keep himself from trying to through another punch. “He Cheng,” Mo bit out the name. He wasn’t sure he’d ever even said it before—finding it logged away in some far back memory.

The man smiled, an older and more sinister version of He Tian. He was another outcome maybe, something darker and colder. Or maybe just He Tian’s future. “I heard my brother had a shadow.”

“Is that what I am?” Mo asked, eyebrow raised. He supposed it was better than “puppy”. What the fuck was he supposed to say to this guy? Why was he here? “He Tian isn’t home yet…”

“I know where my brother is. I always know where my brother is,” He Cheng said sharply, gaze sliding down Mo’s body and head cocking curiously to the side when he considered the tattoo over Mo’s heard. The corner of his mouth quirked and Mo’s nerves jumped, wanting to shove this guy back and make it damn clear that that ‘He’ was not meant for him.

All at once, he realized this threat was a warning. Mo laughed before he could stop himself. “Are you here to tell me what will happen if I… What? Betray him?”

He Cheng’s smile had dwindled down into the smallest twist at the corner of his lips and Mo felt cold. “My brother didn’t go digging around in your past. He can be…idealistic.”

Mo clenched his teeth.

“But I had a background check done on you. I dug up everything about you. About your father—still in jail for that temper. And your tragic mother.”

Mo’s knuckles turned white, fingers straining against the edge of the counter.

“My brother has a soft spot for strays…” He Cheng went on. “You’re just his type.”

Mo grinned then, the gesture feral. He knew he shouldn’t egg this on. He should stay straight-faced and cold like this fucker. But that wasn’t who he was. “I _am_ his type,” Mo agreed. “I am the only one who is his type.”

He Cheng leaned closer, hips almost touching Mo’s. “So cocky. You know he’ll get bored eventually. You know you can’t keep this up forever. You weren’t made for his world.”

“Wasn’t I? Bloody and violent?”

“ _Expensive_ ,” He Cheng said sharply. “He’s a prince. You’re a thug at best. I came here to warn you to get distance before this blows up in your face.” He sounded dangerously reasonable now, like they were old friends. “You’ve been working with him for the last month, shadowing him like a bodyguard or extra muscle and I understand the appeal. You have a good look, puppy. You look wild.”

Mo stared, biting his tongue to keep from telling this guy that he _was_ wild. Every word he spoke would only give things away to someone like He Cheng.

“Business has been good. You do well in a fight and from what I hear you have good instincts.”

“You’re giving me whiplash,” Mo said. He had always been bad at keeping his mouth shut. “First you’re threatening me and telling me what a piece of shit I am and now you’re complimenting me… If your goal is to confuse me out—”

“I’m giving you options, puppy,” He Cheng interrupted. He took a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I can offer you a job working for me. You’ll be independent and won’t end up out on your ass or dead when my brother is done with you.”

Mo stared at him for a long time and then let go of the edge of the counter, dropping his arms to his sides and laughing. It eased his muscles when he did, shaking his head and finally dragging a hand over his scalp. “You think you’re going to offer me a job and I’m going to leave him? To save me?” His laughter faded and slowly Mo understood, only a small sad smile left behind. “To save him.”

He Cheng’s gaze narrowed. “Take the offer.”

“No.”

“There is no happy ending for the two of you.”

Mo sighed. “We finally agree on something. But no one like us gets a happy ending. We almost never even get a happy anything. You really think I’d let him go just because it’s going to end bad? I’d rather end badly with him than live okay on my own.”

He Cheng stared hard at him.

“No,” Mo said again, louder this time.

“I could pay you.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I could tell that ex of yours where to find you.”

Mo almost laughed. “If I didn’t kill him, you know He Tian would.”

He Cheng’s expression didn’t change but Mo was sure he saw a flicker of a smile behind his eyes. “I could have you killed.”

Mo shrugged.

“I could frame you for a crime and see you put away. Maybe you’ll get to reunite with your old man.”

Mo frowned. “He Tian wouldn’t forgive you and then he’d either break me out, or get himself locked up.” He surprised himself when he said it, because he believed it. He believed He Tian would do those things—would follow him anywhere. When had that happened?

“Brother,” He Tian’s icy voice called from the hallway.

He Cheng stared at Mo another second before turning so that they could both look back at He Tian. He was in his gym clothes, tanktop and sweatpants. He dropped his bag on the floor and scowled.

Mo leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, silently retracing his words and praying He Tian hadn’t been there to hear any of that sappy shit he’d said. He’d never hear the end of it.

For a long minute the two brothers stared at one another and then He Cheng finally nodded and started for the door. He paused beside He Tian long enough to take an envelope from the inside of his jacket and hand it to him. “You didn’t answer your phone. Don’t make me run errands for you,” he said sharply, as though he’d come out of the kindness of his heart—as though there weren’t a hundred people on his payroll he could have sent.

He Tian took it and frowned knowingly at him.

He Cheng glanced back at Mo, looking him over one last time. “I like your puppy.”

“Don’t call him that,” He Tian said lowly.

He Cheng smiled just the tiniest bit before leaving.

Mo waited, not sure he liked the way He Tian was staring at him. The coffee machine hissed when it was done. Mo dragged his gaze down He Tian. He hadn’t showered. He usually did at that fancy ass gym of his. “Do you have a camera here I should know about?”

“I get a notice on my phone when the door opens,” He Tian said, walking toward him, that dark gaze of his running over Mo from head to toe, coming to rest on the tattoo on his heart. Mo could practically see him thinking what his brother would have thought, frown deepening.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Mo asked, not really sure what they were supposed to do if it was. He Cheng ran most of the city now.

He Tian shook his head once. “No.” He closed the space between them, his hand ghosting over Mo’s shoulder and up the side of his neck. He was radiating heat. He’d probably run from the gym here. “You’re okay?”

There were a hundred questions in that one. Mo wasn’t even sure what half of them would be or why He Tian cared that much, but he knew the answer. “Yeah.” He shivered at He Tian’s nearness and the intensity of his gaze searching every inch of his skin for signs of abuse. He did this sometimes. It wasn’t like Mo didn’t get in fights, like they didn’t get busted up some nights even though they came out on top—but He Tian seemed hell bent on making a mental catalogue of every bruise, burn and cut. Sometimes Mo worried he was looking for truths, looking for something Mo wouldn’t tell him. He worried about it, because it worked sometimes. Mo wouldn’t complain about getting hurt unless it was for the fun of yelling at He Tian about it. He wouldn’t have said if He Cheng had knocked him around, so the only way He Tian could really know is by looking for himself.

Maybe that was why Mo always let him—standing still and patient while he was studied, thrilling at the strange attention. There were things Mo could never say—help he could never ask for—so his heart ached pleasantly when He Tian looked rather than asked.

“I heard what you said,” He Tian said.

Mo’s gaze snapped up to his, surprised and then embarrassed, blushing. He pushed at his chest, intent on marching away but He Tian didn’t move, keeping him pinned there to the counter. He marveled for a second, on how the two brothers could be so much alike and yet so completely different to him. “Go shower,” he snapped, trying to get space—trying to get away from whatever soft feelings might come up from this conversation.

He Tian grinned, wicked, like he knew exactly why Mo was suddenly uncomfortable. He leaned in closer and Mo tried to move back, pressing his spine against the counter and cringing when He Tian rubbed his hip to Mo’s feeling his hard on. He Tian moaned against his cheek and Mo closed his eyes, cheeks pink. “That better be because of me and not him…” He Tian whispered menacingly.

Mo tried to shove at his chest again, but He Tian didn’t move back. “Fuck you,” he snapped.

He Tian’s grin grew, flashing those pointed teeth. “Okay.”

Mo’s eyes opened, sucking a breath like he might argue despite how much he wanted it. He had never been comfortable with wanting anything from anyone. Somehow He Tian knew it.

He Tian grabbed his arm and turned him, both of them moving so fast that Mo’s vision blurred and suddenly he was bent forward, cheek to the kitchen counter and breath rushing from his chest. He tried to stand upright and He Tian’s hand pressed against his spine, keeping him bent while the other hand slid into the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his ass. “So, what got your going, Little Mo?” He Tian purred.

Mo shuddered when he heard him sucking on his own fingers, intentionally making wet sounds. “N-Nothing…” he lied.

He Tian’s hand slid against his ass, a wet finger sliding into him and making him jump and squirm against the counter. “Was it the idea of me breaking you out of a prison? Or the idea of us in prison together? Me fucking you in the shower in front of a bunch of people?”

“F-Fuck you!” he snapped, trying to kick him but the movement only made him shiver and moan, He Tian still fingering his ass.

 

* * *

 

He Tian bit his lip, one hand holding Mo down and the other working his ass open, adding a second finger and the a third. Mo rocked against his hand, even when he swore at him, his own erection bobbing.

“Tell me…” He Tian pressed. He always wanted to hear something from Mo—whether it was a fantasy or just what he wanted him to do. Mo could be so cagey about sex, ashamed of himself for wanting it and uncomfortable with needing something so intimate. It hadn’t been a surprised to He Tian that his Mo had been in shitty relationships.

Mo ground out a sound, something between pleasure and pain.

He Tian shivered. He’d heard the way Mo told off He Cheng. That he wouldn’t leave He Tian—not for anything. He wouldn’t have thought Mo would leave him, but it had blown him away to actually hear it. He hated the idea of his brother seeing that tattoo though, knowing that he’d imagine how it could just as easily be his name. But it wasn’t. It would never be. Mo’s heart belonged to He Tian.

“Fuck… Just…” Mo grunted, teeth clicking every time he cut off his own words.

He Tian moaned, loving the way he fell apart. He slid his hand up Mo’s spine until he gripped the back of his neck. “What was it?” he pressed, voice dark and patient despite how much he wanted to be inside him.

Mo ground out sounds.

He Tian slid his fingers out of him and pushed his own pants down, still holding him bent over. He stroked himself and then rubbed the head of his cock against Mo’s ass.

Mo moaned darkly, straining, arching, rubbing back against him to try to push him in but He Tian kept his grip on the redhead’s neck. “Fuck!” Mo whined, panting. “I-It was just you. Just that you would always show up. You always show up,” he practically screamed.

He Tian froze for a second, letting his mind swallow those words, record them in his brain and set them on replay in the background of his thoughts forever. He knew it hadn’t always been true—there was a chunk of years where he hadn’t shown up for Mo. But those years were long over and he’d be damned if he ever let it happen again.

He let pulled Mo up from the counter and turned him around, ignoring that confused, angry growl in his boyfriend’s chest. He kissed him before he could swear or yell or whine, devouring the redhead’s mouth and reaching down to grab his waist, lifting him until his legs wrapped around his hips. They both moaned when they rubbed together and He Tian turned them, pushing Mo’s back up against a wall and pushing up into him. He watched his redhead arch against the wall, fingers flexing against He Tian’s shoulders. He built a pace, watching Mo through half-lidded eyes—watching him come undone and drinking in his sounds as he lost control of them.

Mo was right, there were no happy endings for people like them. But who needed a fairy tale ending when they had this right now? And he had been right about the other stuff too. He Tian would follow him anywhere, heaven or hell, because he would always show up for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know it's been a while since my last update. I go through periods of inspiration and then kinda run out of steam sometimes. I'm sorry. I'm not abandoning the story or anything, I just get lost sometimes. I hope you still enjoy it and a big thank you to anyone still reading! I really love writing these characters and your feedback has meant the world to me. This is such a kind and welcoming fandom and I really enjoy writing for you guys.


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